


Bunny

by raichuxyz



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Metaphors, Bondage, Castration, Clothed Sex, Daydreaming, Domestic Violence, F/F, Family, Fear, Fear Play, Flashbacks, Gore, Incest, Knifeplay, Little Sisters, Lolicon, Mental Instability, Mild Gore, Oral Sex, Pedophilia, Pretentious, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Sadism, Sibling Incest, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raichuxyz/pseuds/raichuxyz
Summary: I'll regret posting this.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Bunny

Kids can get really rowdy. They’ll shout, they’ll squeal at the top of their lungs while they run around. They’ll cling to your legs so hard they cut off blood circulation to your foot, sometimes on a daily basis. My eternally drunk or stoned dorm-mates do that slightly less often, so I was unprepared for the bottled-up excitement that’s bursting out of my little sister at the seams. I step in the front door to my grandparents’ house. We exchange greetings, hugs, and laughs, but nobody stops moving around. Mom is already here, thawing the turkey while grandpa cuts bread for the stuffing. Is it dressing? Who cares.  
Abby is tired, she must have just woken up. The kid legitimately sleeps 14 hours a day. Her eyes are unfocused and she’s yawning quietly as she turns the corner to see what potential entertainment is going on in the living room. She sees me, jumps, and stops dead. All the motion in her body has been redirected to her face. Her eyebrows are gonna fly off of her forehead, and there’s something about such a giant grin on a tiny face that renders you helpless to do anything other than grin back. She’s staring more than usual, though. She squeals, then shouts at me.  
“E-boy! E-boy!”  
I wasn’t really expecting that. I shake my head slowly in confusion, which reminds me. I got a pixie cut. Is that it? I open my mouth to clarify with her, but she’s not hearing it. She’s tackled me to the ground. I laugh and she makes that sort of wavy noise little kids do, the one that makes it sound like she’s on a rollercoaster, except the rollercoaster is her big cool grown-up sister who she’s missed so much. But regardless, she’s sure as shit riding me at this point. She’s chanting “E-boy, e-boy, e-boy” like she’s trying to summon the shittiest ancient demon. If she breaks out the candles, I’m gone. Even though that isn’t really an option. She’s now rolled us onto the carpet and sat down to look at me, still grinning.  
She hasn’t really wrapped her head around college, she doesn’t understand why I needed to leave. She was calling me Harry Potter in August. All she really got was that I’m going to big girl school, and to do that I needed to not come home for a while. And now, all she cares about is that I’m home again. Oh, and the haircut. Apparently she’s got a thing for that?  
“Be my best friend e-boy! Eboy eboy eboy! Hehehehe-”  
She comes in for another quick tackle-hug before propping herself up and pulling on my arm. Catching my breath but at a loss for words, I prop myself up with her. She’s already marching along, pulling me to her bedroom, ordering “E-boy, you gotta come with me!” My mom laughs and rolls her eyes. She knows how much Abby loves me.  
She slams her door and throws me onto the ground. It’s one of those rough rugs, with some cartoon character on it. I’ve got a good decade on this girl, I’m in my physical prime, and there’s no way she should be stronger than me, but there’s something about the huge amount of energy bottled up in such a tiny amount of body weight that makes little kids roughhouse like goddamn wolverines. I eat shit on the rug and she body-slams on top of me, knocking the wind out. I gasp for air and try to call her off as she wiggles around on top of me and wraps her arms over my shoulders, shouting in my ear “Eboy, do you have a girlfriend?!”   
The fuck? I mean, I shouldn’t be reading so far into that, she probably just wants to catch up with how I’ve been, but it’s gonna stick in my mind. She snaps her arms together around my neck, choking me hard. I roll over, trying to shake her off, but she’s a human vice. What am I even supposed to do in this situation? My words aren’t getting through to her.  
“Nobody comes near my eboy!”  
Got it. How are her tiny noodle arms not moving? Jesus Christ, I can’t breathe at all. Luckily, she lets up, and jumps off of me, landing on my legs, and now I’m shouting for her to stop, but god dammit her head is between them. Does she know where that is? She’s scrabbling at my skirt, and now she’s pulled it up, and for just a split second, I can feel her adorable little button nose poking there-  
Nope, that’s it, we’re done. Maybe I’m just a fucking creep, whatever, but I’m gonna need a break from Abby. There’s no point talking to her. I push her head away, but her feet are now wrapped around me, latched on, and she’s not budging. Something is coming over the spot she’s working on. She’s barely touched me, seriously. But that one little brush from her nose put me on edge, and now even through the thin, smooth fabric, I can clearly feel it again, and now more of her face. For fuck’s sake, I lost my virginity years ago, this shouldn’t be such a big deal for me, but this is absolutely something I’ve never felt before, because of who it is. My hips jut forward in a fast jolt of adrenaline, and she seems unfazed. I feel something wet and I hit her.  
My stomach drops. She’s gone still and quiet. I think I got her right in the back of the head, in a motion to shift her down, and she got sent flying a few feet, and her legs are now near my crotch.  
She makes one sharp movement in her arms. A split second later, she pulls herself up in another defined movement, and brushes off her arm as she turns and glares at me. I can see that the energy is still there.  
“Abby, oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay!?” I hate myself for what I did, I should know better. But I’m interrupted. She’s gotten a long black cable from somewhere, and she’s pounced back on top of me, and she’s grabbing my arms. I feel the plastic biting into my skin, and then I feel my shirt getting pulled up by soft little hands that don’t care about stretching it. I’m on my back with my hands somehow bound together under me, and she’s on my crotch, pinning me to the floor (we’ve shifted onto the hardwood), and my shirt is pulled up to obscure my vision, but I feel her hands on my tits, and I struggle but I can’t make a sound come out. And now there’s a hand inside my panties, rubbing me roughly, not really knowing the sensitivity of the area, while she plops down on me and gets comfy, and all my vision is white, turning pink, and there are some streaks of yellow and blue and red in there, I’m completely out of it, I can’t think, can’t process, everything becomes a haze, and while I’ll keep being a fucking despicable liar to myself, to my friends, God knows my family, there’s something inside me that knows it, that accepts it, that is experiencing something so far beyond the most sincere adoration while the rest of me struggles desperately.  
Nah.  
That’s not what I want.  
Honest.  
Little kids stick their hands in gross places. I can’t do anything about the fact that it’s in my mouth, and the two sides of my subconscious have wildly differing opinions on that. They drool, and they yell, and they’re just not made to get fucked. Their bodies aren’t even capable of achieving the end goal. They’re so adorable and precious, but even though I’m cumming, it’s never gonna be worth it.  
It’s not too cold, though.  
I saw her as I walked through the kitchen, heading upstairs. I can’t remember her name. Annie or Anna or maybe even Adrienne, I could care less. She’s my cousin, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. But I remember her. I remember a day when the sun poured down through the gray clouds and cast a feeling over the world that made me know I was both cooped-up and completely uninspired. I sat down on the steps of the old, rotting porch, and stared up, watching the sky struggle to shine through the blanket of melancholy. Hannah was, for the most part, dead silent, but simultaneously so loud. It could be something about her personality that took full control over you and made damn well sure you were listening, as if she might give you an order to follow. A little gasp through her teeth, even from this good distance, rings out clear despite the howling and whistling wind’s best efforts to drown it out, and the faint sounds of my mom’s brother screaming at whichever woman he impregnated to pop out the girl sitting on the expansive middle-american lawn in front of me. She was crouched down in the dry grass. Not making herself small, nor big. Her clothes were dull, as if they would make me stop paying attention to her. But even though my eyes were now fixed on an ant scurrying through a peeling crack in the red paint, one hundred percent of my consciousness was dedicated to Hannah. She stood up slowly and walked a few feet away from where she had been crouching for the better part of an hour, then turned around on the spot. She had something in her hand. She carefully placed it on the ground, then crouched back down over it. It twitched slightly. Her hands moved to her pockets and laid things out on the ground around it. It had fur.  
I didn’t have the guts to go over there, but I did it anyway, because I felt absolutely compelled to do so. There are some things that you just have to see.  
It was a rabbit, exactly the same color as the sky, laid out faceup on the dirt, its arms spread. It wasn’t dead. She kept a hand gently fixed on its soft belly, stroking so, so lightly. I got closer and closer but really couldn’t see any damage to the body. My stomach hadn’t fallen, and I hadn’t let out a gulp. Really, everything just felt frozen. Unmoving, static, and uncomfortably chilly. She had a pocket knife and a lighter decorating either side of the creature’s head. The eyes were open. The belly rubs were keeping it completely calm. Hannah’s eyes were staring intently into the rabbit’s, and the rabbit was staring back. She delicately but deftly held the pocket knife, bringing out the blade, and slid it under the rabbit’s skin. The rabbit was still. It wasn’t dead, but it didn’t dare move. Was her touch that comforting? That she could take parts of him, harvest him, and he would still feel safe enough, protected, from how she was touching him? She slowly worked the knife around. I closed my eyes. I hated this. But it was over, just how it had begun. She turned up to me with her hand open and waited patiently for me to look. Sitting there in her palm, perfectly and cleanly cut, was the dick and balls of a rabbit. It’s one of those things that’s so awful, but so intriguing that you can’t look away. I turned my eyes to the rabbit. There was the wound, all right. She went to work with stitches, producing a needle and thread and gently fixing him up.  
It wasn’t often that I heard Hannah speak. Her voice was very soft.  
“Dad says the rabbits are pests. But I figure there’s no need to kill them like he told me to.”  
As I nod and turn away, she grasps the lighter. I take a peek back. The rabbit is so still as its eyes are melted out.  
Hannah has matured. Her long blond hair shines as it flows down her back and shoulders. She’s probably got at least C cups by now. I’ve always processed how beautiful her face is, but it’s never hit me like this before. Something in her eyes, the way she looks at me, and at everyone. When I’m in her presence, I feel calm and comfortable, because I know that there’s some sort of titan or god here in the room with me, or maybe just an archangel. I know that she’s so much lonelier than the kid who sees her classmates lined up in the sights of her dad’s old 1911, she’s got more charm than Bundy and higher aspirations than Hitler. The bright, watery blue pierces deep inside me, and I’m the rabbit, helpless under her. She’s got me, she’s decided that I’m her personal property, and there’s nothing I can do about it. She doesn’t need to restrain me, but she does anyway.  
So they’re both illegal as shit. But this one is a much more enjoyable ride for the risk. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s not rough with me, but as I feel rope wrap around my wrist, her fingernails trace across my skin so delicately and they handle the rope with precision and expertise. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s going to make sure I’m staying where she puts me, and just to be polite, she’s going to make sure I look pretty in whichever predicament she chooses. My limbs are all pulled tightly to the corners of the bed. Squirming is completely pointless. I’m one with the mattress at this point. Her sock is in my mouth, and it’s held in with just a few strips of duct tape. I can’t make a sound. I’m facedown, so I can’t see her trace a large, cold knife across my spine, pressing the dull edge against my hot skin as she gently and cleanly cuts my clothes down the middle. You have to admire her attention to detail. She’s waited until everyone went to bed, but there are still so many hours left in the night. I surely won’t be making a sound, and her soft, angelic voice will just put people into a deeper sleep, if anything.  
Her hand presses firmly into my back, then her fingers run along it. I gasp and shudder hard at the touch. I feel almost starstruck. I keep understanding more and more the extent to which I worship this girl. Two fingers trace along the edges of my pussy as I space out into bliss. I’m sure she’ll tease me for a long time. I’m alright with that.  
But what I’m not alright getting teased by is this other girl. Because this girl is less powerful than me. It’s my job as an older sibling to deal with these sorts of situations. She needs to be put back in her place.  
I slip out of the cords and place both hands firmly around Abby’s neck. I don’t hesitate to squeeze, and in just a few seconds, I’m holding a cute suffocated little toy up in the air in front of me as I stand. The white-hot adrenaline coursing through my veins makes it really easy to lift her up and toss her around. I slam her down onto the soft little bed and dig into her crotch in the most deliciously carnivorous way. She begins to let out a completely reasonable noise, and I clamp my hand firmly over her mouth. My tongue swirls around inside her. Her legs are kicking up and down, beating mercilessly on my back, tensing up and straightening out. I can feel her soft little tummy bumping up and down as she hyperventilates. Yeah, that’s about right kiddo. Here’s what an orgasm feels like. She’s so easy when I’ve got her like this. Her little arms reach out for something to hold, so I oblige, holding her hands in mine while she squirts on my face, vibrates, gyrates, and then falls asleep.  
Very, very slowly, I pull my head away. There are a few suction sounds as the mix of so many clear liquids is separated. I pull her shorts back up and lay her down in her bed. I tuck her in under the covers. I look around for a second, then take her teddy bear and wedge it into her arms. She’s out like a light, but she’s appreciating it. She rubs it against her cheek and cuddles it. I straighten out her hair a little, then hook that cable back up to her alarm clock. I don’t bother setting the clock again. It’s nice to have something to remember this by, at least until someone fixes it. I turn off the light, and before I can get out of the room, I’m out too, down on the floor, vision black, drifting off into fantasies of love, of affection, of endless, unbearable suffering.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this like... ok?


End file.
